


Forgive Us Our Sins

by zaffrin



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 10th Century, AU, Alternate Universe, Catholicism, F/M, I'm Sorry, Nuns, Priests, Sacrilege, nun au, you read that right
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28551522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaffrin/pseuds/zaffrin
Summary: The old wooden door to her small, modest room creaks loudly, try as she might to open it quietly, and she winces against the noise as a figure in a brown cloak slips inside. She eases it shut as carefully as she can.“Father Kaleb,” she greets him once it’s closed behind him, and she has flipped the latch to lock it.“Good evening Sister Thalia,” he replies in that quiet, smooth voice of his. “Did I interrupt your prayers?”
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry for this one, the idea just came to me and wouldn't leave me alone. Heed the tags and subject matter, it is not my intention to offend anyone so please just avoid if religion is something you may be touchy about. (As an extra disclaimer, I am ex-catholic myself so make of that what you will.)

The old wooden door to her small, modest room creaks loudly, try as she might to open it quietly, and she winces against the noise as a figure in a brown cloak slips inside. She eases it shut as carefully as she can.

“Father Kaleb,” she greets him once it’s closed behind him, and she has flipped the latch to lock it.

“Good evening Sister Thalia,” he replies in that quiet, smooth voice of his. “Did I interrupt your prayers?”

“No, I was just… um.” She closes the book of equations on her writing desk, shoving it under some papers guiltily, but Father Kaleb just chuckles.

“You don’t have to hide that from me, sister,” he says. “I confess… sometimes there are things that hold my attention more readily than the bible can do.”

Thalia bites her lip, looking away from his eyes. “You shouldn’t say such things, father,” she mumbles.

“No - no, you’re right.”

He sets his candle down on the desk next to her own, and brushes the papers aside to see the book beneath.

“Hm,” he comments. “This is the second volume… have you read the first? I found some of the theories -“

“Contradictory, I know!” She enthuses. “This version makes much more sense, I think the author must have been figuring things out as he went.”

“Aren’t we all?” Father Kaleb throws her a half-smile and Thalia bites her lip, fiddling with the thin cotton garment that adorns her. She’s in her nightdress, habit laid out aside on the chair in the corner for tomorrow so it doesn’t wrinkle and it’s hardly proper. - But then, nothing about this situation is very proper anyway, is it? 

Father Kaleb is new to the order, and when he’d first arrived earlier in the year, Thalia had stumbled across him in the gardens a few days after, looking agitated as he paced, dark hair in disarray like he’d been running his fingers through it and eyes wild. 

He’d been embarrassed at her having come across him in such a state at first, but when Thalia had offered an unbiased ear, the poor young man had spilled his guts, confessing to her that he’d been pushed into the priesthood against his own will, and felt trapped and angry and confused now he’d finally completed his studies and found himself locked away here.

Thalia’s heart had ached for him. Much like Father Kaleb, Thalia had been forced into the convent when she was fourteen, as a last resort when her family finally had enough of her wild ways and refusal to bend to society’s norms and decided it was the only thing for her. Initially, she had thought they’d come round, and come to take her home after a few months - or maybe a year. They never did. And now, six years on, she had come to accept her life here with no other choice. Kaleb’s story was similar in some ways. His father was a priest, and Kaleb’s older brother set to follow in his vocation, but when he’d been killed in a tragic accident three years ago, the expectation suddenly fell onto eighteen-year-old Kaleb’s shoulders. He was deemed unpredictably tempered and unruly as a boy, and his mother and father had concluded that sending him away to a closed order was the best way to handle the situation. 

The two of them had bonded over that and their shared (and forbidden) love of the sciences, and now five months later, Thalia cannot imagine life here without him again. 

He reminds her of a friend she had had, back home when she was young. They’d lie under the stars and fancy they might build a great flying ship and visit them one day, and skip out on their classes in the small village school, hiding from their teachers in the woods. His family had moved away when they were about six, and though she’d been small, Thalia had felt his loss keenly ever since - a hole in her heart that only Kaleb had finally started to fill with his own comforting presence. She had missed having a friend like that. Of course, she considered the other nuns at the convent her family, and she loved several of them dearly - but it wasn’t the same kind of bond. In Kaleb, she felt a kindred spirit, just like she had with that little boy all those years ago, and though he is unhappy to be trapped here, Thalia is selfishly grateful he had come to the order. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come and see you last night,” he says, voice lowered as he leans back against her desk. Thalia shrugs, crossing the small room to perch on her bed with a sigh. 

“It’s fine. I figured you got roped into something.”

He nods. “Somebody’s aunt is ill… or grandma or something. I don’t know. But apparently it called for three hours of the rosary that went on until midnight,” he says sourly, and Thalia muffles a laugh in her hand. 

“You spent three hours praying for someone’s recovery and you don’t even remember who they are?”

“Well.” He looks a bit guilty, shoving a hand through his hair. “I was a little distracted.” His eyes meet hers again, and they are dark as he holds her gaze steadily. “Mostly thinking of how I’d rather be here with you.”

Thalia bites her lip as a pleased flush comes to her cheeks. It’s _wrong_ . She’s certain of it - to be _glad_ that Father Kaleb was thinking of her instead of praying for the health of somebody who’d taken ill was _awful_ … but Thalia is learning lately that she is a much weaker person than she’d believed herself to be, especially when it comes to Father Kaleb.

“Well I’ll be sure to remember them in my prayers tomorrow, whoever they are,” she mumbles, then wrinkles her nose as she remembers when those were set to take place. “Ugh. I have to be up at dawn. Sister Agatha’s decided that the gardens need extra attention tomorrow, which means morning prayers have to take place two hours earlier than usual,” she complains. 

Father Kaleb tilts his head. “Do you want me to go?”

“No,” she answers immediately, and shrugs. “I’ll be tired either way.”

He gives a low chuckle, pushing away from the table to take the two strides across the stone floor to her bed, and settle down next to her. He places a hand on her thigh, and his palm is hot through the thin material of her plain nightdress. 

“May as well make it worth it then,” he murmurs, voice low as he leans into her. 

Thalia’s eyelids flutter, and her heart picks up speed, a warmth spreading throughout her body that’s becoming familiar when she’s around him - as much as it still has the capability to render her a little dizzy and alarmed. 

“Kaleb,” she utters, his name a breath on her lips as his own whisper over her neck. “We shouldn’t…” she says, but lays back when he pushes at her shoulder, her thighs falling open as he climbs over her, drawing her nightdress up her legs.

She fumbles with his robe, tugging it up, finding him as bare as she beneath it, and it takes only a shift of their hips and a nudge of her fingers for him to slip inside of her, sliding in as they both sigh, a moan caught in the back of her throat. 

He groans as they start to move, thrusting deep into her, sweat building between them on her inner thighs and hips where their bodies slide together.

“Holy Mary mother of god,” he breathes the prayer in her ear when his hips start to jerk faster, and Thalia frantically shoves a hand down between them to touch herself, rubbing desperately as her own body burns white hot and then pleasure rips through her. 

_Forgive me father for I have sinned,_ she thinks dazedly as she lays panting beneath Father Kaleb, staring at the ceiling. 

Her thighs are sticky when he rolls off her, and they lay side by side a moment, squashed together in her small bed, panting as her skin starts to cool. He reaches out a hand, shifting a little onto his side as he smooths his palm up over her thigh and hip, then across her bare belly beneath her nightdress. Thalia shivers, turning her head to nuzzle into his neck. He takes a moment, caressing her gently as they both come down from the disorientating high of pleasure they shouldn’t be indulging in, before he kisses her chastely, and clambers up over her and out of the bed. 

She twists onto her side, watching him fidget with his robe and tighten the tie around his waist in the low light of the candles on the side. 

“I wish you could stay.” The thought leaves her lips into the quiet room, and Kaleb glances round at her. 

“I know. I do too. But I’d best get back before anyone notices I’ve gone -”

“I know,” she cuts off his explanation, and sighs, pushing herself to sit up, folding her legs under her and throwing her nightdress down around them to stave off the chill she’s starting to feel. 

Kaleb retrieves his candle on the side, and gives her an apologetic glance. 

“I’ll see you in confession tomorrow,” he reminds her, and Thalia nods. 

“Yes. Though I think you already know what mine will be,” she says, and bites her lip guiltily - but does nothing to stop him when he steps over to her and reaches out with a hand, pushing it into her hair before leaning in to kiss her again. 

“If this is a sin then I am a doomed man,” he murmurs hotly against her mouth, and Thalia licks her lips, clenching and unclenching her fist at her side as her body hums with delight at his mere proximity. 

“Aren’t we both?” She whispers in response, and then Father Kaleb inhales deeply through his teeth like a hiss of acknowledgement, yanks himself away from her, and is gone. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was intended to be a short thing but I feel like I could make more out of this... if anyone is interested? Please let me know in the comments if you are!


	2. Chapter 2

The gardens are quiet and peaceful, and the sun is shining down on them as father Kaleb strolls leisurely down the pathways, hands clasped behind his back. 

He nods to those he passes, and offers a smile in response to Father John’s ‘Thank the lord for this beautiful day!’ Kaleb rolls his eyes when he’s passed him, thinking that it was the turning of the earth and the elements to be thankful for the appearance of the sun on this day; he doubts the lord had much to do with it. 

He passes several groups of nuns, greeting them all politely, before he spots Sister Thalia tending the rose garden with a few others, and stops to observe from his spot by the fountain, pretending to be fascinated by the flow of water. 

She kneels in the dirt, sleeves of her black habit rolled up as she digs a small hole with a trowel, then retrieves a bulb from the bucket to place it neatly in the hole before she starts to pack the earth in around it. His eyes trail over her as she works… the dowdy gown covers her well, but the curve of her behind is visible where she bends over on all fours to work, and the corner of Kaleb’s lips quirk up in a smile. He imagines wandering over there - should there be nobody else around - of sliding his hands over her bottom as she jumps in surprise, then lifting her habit, throwing the ridiculous garment up over her back to bare her lower half to the bright sun - and taking her there, kneeling in the dirt by the roses…

He has to turn away a moment, forcing his gaze up to the clouds in the sky and frantically reciting the lord’s prayer before he has a reaction to his thoughts that would be difficult to hide out here in the sunny gardens. 

_ The things she could do to him… _

This hadn’t been his intention when he’d come here.  _ None _ of this had. Not that he’d wanted to come here in the first place - but Kaleb had mostly resigned himself to his fate by the time the day came, and then he walked into the order, and saw  _ her _ sitting in the front row of the church during the first morning mass. He hadn’t been saying it that day - thank god - for he expects he would have entirely forgotten how to use his words, and had spent most of the service casting glances at her, trying to convince himself his eyes were deceiving him and she was somebody else, wondering how fate could have such a sense of humor. 

As soon as he’d had a minute to himself, he’d escaped out into these very gardens and - as irony would have it -  _ she _ had found him there, pacing and agitated. 

But she hadn’t recognised him as he had her - why would she? - And had simply looked at him with such soft sympathy and openness in her gaze, he’d found himself spilling his story to her - omitting a few details of course. 

Still. At that point he hadn’t meant for anything to happen, and by that night had resolved himself to simply keep his distance. But Thalia -  _ Sister _ Thalia as she was now - seemed to draw him to her like a magnet - and she to him - and the two of them had grown close quickly. Very close;  _ too  _ close, as far as their vows were concerned. 

“Father Kaleb?”

A voice behind him jolts him from his thoughts, and he spins on his heel, hoping he doesn’t look as flustered as he feels as he forces a smile for the elderly nun in front of him. 

“I didn't mean to disturb you,” she says, “If you’re not busy, perhaps you could fetch some cans of water from the well for us to water the new bulbs? I find them ever so heavy to carry…”

“Of course,” he mutters, and hastens off to do as she asks. 

He’s sweating a little when he returns, and sets the water down by the freshly planted roses. Thalia looks up, their eyes meet, and she hides a smile quickly as she lifts a hand to brush the back of it over her sweat-damped forehead. She smudges a bit of dirt across her face, and Kaleb has to stop himself from striding over and wiping it away with his thumb. She’s flushed from work and the sun, and he forces his eyes away from her before he can think about the other times he’d seen her flushed so. 

He gives them all a nod, and hurries off. 

\--

The church is quiet, and Thalia’s footsteps echo loudly as she walks from the pews up to the little side room just before the altar, then lifts back the curtain of the confession box and steps inside, sitting herself down on the little seat in there. 

She starts with the typical prayer, and falls quiet as she waits for him to answer. She used to  _ hate _ confession. She supposes everyone does. But Thalia couldn’t help but feel like she probably had a lot more to confess than the other sisters in the convent each week. The worst part was that she never admitted to all of it… telling the priest that she’d had to smother a laugh when the elderly Sister Mary had tripped over the hem of her habit on the way to communion was one thing, but admitting to the stash of books she had hidden in her room, or the way she questioned…  _ so much _ of the scriptures they taught was quite another. 

But that was before Father Kaleb. 

“You may begin.” His voice is soft in the quiet of the confession box, and Thalia takes a deep breath, trying to order her thoughts to focus on what she’s here for rather than the way Father Kaleb’s voice fills her body with warmth. 

“Well. I… have spent some evenings I should have dedicated to prayer instead to studies that go against teachings,” she begins quietly. It is one of the things Thalia would have ever dared confess before Kaleb had got here, too fearful of what might become of her if the other priests and elders knew the directions her mind sometimes went. It’s almost a relief to be able to admit to such things now.

“Hm,” Kaleb answers evenly. “Well… sometimes it can be beneficial to learn what else there is in the world. Maybe even to our own faith.”

Thalia nods behind the screen. It’s a discussion the two of them have had before, and she is grateful to have someone who understands the way she thinks. 

“Is there anything else you wish to confess?”

“I don’t doubt you already know, father,” she murmurs lowly, voice scarcely above a whisper for fear someone will overhear them - although the possibility is unlikely, with the confession box sequestered away in a room at the front of the church with its thick stone walls. 

“Tell me anyway,” he replies, and Thalia is certain his voice is a touch lower than it was a moment ago, with a slightly rough edge. Does he  _ like _ making her speak of it? It was rather terrible if he did… and more terrible still that it should quicken her heart in something akin to excitement. 

She shoves it down, and clears her throat, trying to focus on the sins she’s committed in the week since her last confession here. “I have had… impure thoughts - about a man of the cloth,” she says quietly.

“How often?”

Thalia flushes a bit, and licks her lips. “Frequently.”

There’s a pause, and when he continues, she’s certain she can hear a smile in his voice. “Go on.”

“And along with that I had intercourse six times -“

“Seven,” he interrupts her, and she glances at the screen between them.

“Huh?”

“The afternoon in the presbytery?”

She shakes her head. “I counted that.”

“The gardens - after mass last tuesday evening.”

“Oh. Yeah. You’re right.” She’d hung back and Kaleb had pinned her to the wall round the back of the chapel, lifting her habit with frantic hands as she hooked a leg over his hip. It had been rough and quick and she’d sprinted back to catch up with her friends for dinner afterwards, hoping she didn’t look as flustered as she felt. She remembers she could feel the evidence of Father Kaleb, damp on her inner thighs as she’d sat in the dinner hall with a bowl of plain stew, and she is certain it’s suddenly a lot warmer in this little confession box than it was a moment ago. She hastily clears her throat. 

“Then there have been… other things. Sinful things that I dare not describe.”

“But you  _ must.” _

She turns her head to stare at the screen at those hasty words. “What?”

“I mean -” It is Father Kaleb’s turn to clear his throat, and when he continues he sounds a little more composed. “How am I to absolve you of your sins, if you do not tell me what they are?”

Thalia gives a little huff, and rolls her eyes, glad he cannot see her. “Fine,” she mutters, dropping her voice to a rushed whisper. “I knelt on the floor and took your cock into my mouth, is that what you wanted to hear?”   
He doesn’t answer straight away, but she’s certain she can  _ hear _ him smiling. 

After a moment, he speaks again, in that same quiet, low tone. “These are grave sins indeed,” he says, and she rolls her eyes. 

“I’m quite aware of that.”

“But… one is not always strong enough to resist the pull of temptations of the flesh… especially when the other party involved is… equally as wanton. We can only try to do our best to remain strong and faithful to god in the future.”   
Thalia sighs, knowing as well as Kaleb surely did that to even try was futile - for one had to  _ want _ to stop something before one could find the strength to do so - and she leans her head on the barrier between them. “Just tell me my penance,” she mumbles resignedly. 

She hears a sigh from the other side, and knows he is thinking the same. “Ten _ Hail Marys _ . And three  _ Our Fathers _ .”

She lifts her head, raising her eyebrows. “Going a little easy on me this week, father,” she comments. 

“Well,” he replies. “I think perhaps your own guilt is giving you punishment enough.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles. 

“Let us pray together.”

Afterwards, Thalia rises from her seat to leave the booth, but she pauses after she’s pushed back the curtain, a suddenly chilling thought occurring to her. 

A quick glance around ensuring they are alone, she yanks back the curtain to Kaleb’s side, seeing him look up with surprised dark eyes. 

“Do you admit the same things?” She demands in a hushed voice. “In your confession?”

“I…” Kaleb hesitates, and Thalia holds her breath. “I should. I know that. But… I fear that should I reveal such things the consequences may… take me away from you.”

“Oh,” Thalia breathes out, along with a sigh of relief as her stomach flutters pleasantly. She nods. “Yes, you’re probably right.” It was a selfish sort of relief, but Thalia could not push it down. She licks her suddenly dry lips. “I’m glad,” she murmurs quickly, before moving to let the curtain drop. 

“Thalia?”

She hesitates. “Yes?”

Kaleb tilts his head at her, eyes holding hers. “Are there many more waiting?”   
She shakes her head. “I’m the last today.”

“Oh,” he nods, and he is smiling. 

It’s Thalia’s turn to tilt her head. “What?”

Kaleb’s gaze runs over her. “Close the curtain,” he says. 

She goes to step back, but a hand shoots out and grabs her wrist, and Kaleb  _ tugs _ , yanking her into the booth and him, a gasp of surprise falling from her lips as she lands against him, his lips pressed to her ear. “I meant with you on this side.”

Breathless, she plants a hand on his chest as his hands roam over her sides. “Father,” she utters, “We’re in  _ church _ …”

“Never stopped us before,” he breathes, and he’s  _ right _ , he’s right and she hates it, hates the way she feels her body start to go limp against him, and the way she reaches out behind her blindly with a hand to grasp the curtain and yank it back, shutting them off from anyone who might happen to wander past. 

She is straddling his lap, her habit pushed up and his hands kneading her breasts as he kisses her neck, her head thrown back and eyes closed in bliss, when a voice makes them jump apart a few minutes later. 

“Father Kaleb?”

Thalia’s wide eyes find his own, and he places a finger on her lips as he clears his throat. 

“Yes?”

“That’s all for confession today, you may leave.”

It’s one of the elder priests, and Thalia’s heart is pounding as she tries not to breathe for fear of being heard in the tiny box. 

“Uh - thank you, Father Edmund, just… taking a moment of quiet reflection.”

“...Of course,” comes the reply, and then footsteps move away. 

Thalia slumps forward, pressing her forehead to Kaleb’s shoulder as she lets out a breath she’d been holding. 

“That was too close,” she whispers to him. 

“I know.”

“This was stupid.”

“I know. - Where are you going?” He grips her hips as she makes to pull away. 

“Out! Before anyone else comes by!”   
“You can’t leave now - what if he sees you leave, he knows the other side of the box was empty.”

“Well what am I meant to do?”

Father Kaleb wiggles his eyebrows at her, and Thalia tries to ignore the way her stomach flips. 

“I just took confession!” She hisses. 

“I’ll add another  _ Hail Mary _ to your penance…” Kaleb says flippantly as he leans in to kiss her neck again. 

“I hardly think that covers it,” Thalia mumbles, but she does not stop his wandering hands beneath her clothes, and knows she will have yet another sin to confess next week. 

\--


	3. Chapter 3

The morning sun hasn’t even broken over the horizon when Thalia steps outside and makes her way over to the convent gates where a group of her sisters are already gathered. She casts her gaze around as she approaches them, brow furrowing in a hint of confusion when she doesn’t see Father Kaleb. It was unlike him to be late for anything, and she’s certain he was supposed to be accompanying them on their trip to the orphanage in the nearby town today. 

“Good morning,” she greets one of the elder sisters as she reaches the group. “Is… father Kaleb not here yet? I can go and fetch him if you’d like…”

“Oh - no, no sister that’s alright - Father Simon will be coming with us today instead.”

She raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Why?”

“That’s nothing for you to worry about child - tuck that piece of hair into your headdress! Whatever are you thinking, going into town looking a mess - you’re representing our order and the lord himself you know,” the older lady scolds.

“Sorry sister,” Thalia mumbles, reaching up to tuck the strand of offending hair up. “Actually… I came down here to tell you that I can’t go today. That is - I don’t think I should,” she says hastily.

“Oh?” Sister agatha folds her arms. “And why’s that?”

“I’m sick,” she blurts out. “I was sick - this morning. It could have been something I ate but… I wouldn’t like to risk passing something on to those poor children in case it’s an illness…”

“Oh,” she replies. “Well… no, I suppose not. I hope it’s  _ not  _ an illness - we can’t have the convent going down with something…”

“I’m sure it’ll pass,” Thalia says quickly. “I think I probably overindulged on the strawberries we picked from the gardens yesterday - they were just so sweet.” 

“Well. Gluttony is a sin you know,” she fixes her with a disapproving look.

“Yes sister.”

“I suggest you go back to your room and ask god for forgiveness - although it seems you are being aptly punished.”

“Yes sister.”

She makes a shooing motion with her hand. “On you go then.”

Thalia ducks her head and scampers off, hastening back to her room inside the convent. She’ll give it an hour - then she’ll see if she can’t sneak into the priests quarters - or perhaps she’d find Kaleb down in one of the chapels. 

She doesn’t have to go looking after all. When Thalia opens the door to her room, he’s sitting quite comfortably on her bed, looking at her with an expectant smirk on his lips. Her eyes widen and she hurries inside and hastily shuts the door behind her. 

“Kaleb! What are you doing here!?”

“Waiting for you,” he grins, leaning back on his hands. “I knew you’d wriggle out of going when you realised I wasn’t on the trip.”

“Well,” she says, pulling off her headdress and running a hand through her hair. “Only because I wanted to know why you weren’t - damn these things itch,” she mutters, scratching at her head. 

“Here,” he chuckles, getting up and walking round behind her to reach into her hair. “An entire free day to spend with you,” he murmurs as he carefully pulls out the pins she’d stuck in her hair to keep it up under her habit. “Couldn’t resist that.”

“But the orphans,” Thalia bites her lip, feeling guilty. 

“Have still got the rest of them coming to visit them, haven’t they?”

“I guess…”

“Anyway,” he says, combing his fingers through her now loose hair, “I hardly think a bunch of children’s ideal day is sitting around being taught how to pray and told what they can and can’t do to be  _ good _ . Remember when -”

He cuts off abruptly, his fingers suddenly freezing in her hair. She twists her neck to look at him. 

“When what?”

“Uh -” Kaleb hastily resumes combing her hair out. “When you were a child. If you were anything like me, I was certainly more interested than playing in the woods than learning the rosary.”

She smiles, nodding as she relaxes back into his touch. “Yeah. Me too.”

Her hair combed free, Father Kaleb drops his hand to her shoulder, using the other to sweep back the newly detangled hair from her neck, bending his head to press his lips to the side of it. 

Thalia sighs, leaning back against him and tilting her head to give him access. The hand on her shoulder drops to wrap around her waist, and the one by her neck glides down and round the front of her body, sliding over her chest. Bottom lip caught between her teeth, Thalia places her own hand over it, encouraging him to squeeze her breasts through her habit, her eyelids fluttering at the touch as she gives a soft moan. 

“It’s a sin,” Father Kaleb murmurs against her neck, and she thinks he refers at first to the way he’s touching her before he continues; “to cover this perfect body up in this dreadful thing…”

Thalia blushes as he plucks at the front of her habit. “That isn’t the sin here,” she mumbles. 

Kaleb nips at her neck in response. “Listen to your father,” he smirks against her skin, then kisses under her jaw, opening his mouth over her to suckle at her neck. 

“No marks,” Thalia manages to remember, breathless as his hands start to fumble with the buttons down the front of her tunic. They had discovered at the beginning, that by sucking too hard at the skin of her neck, something like a bruise could appear. She’d had to fake an illness and stay in her room for three days after the first time. From then on, Kaleb had delighted in seeing where  _ else _ on her body he could mark instead that wouldn’t be visible. The deep purple bruises he’d left along her inner thighs one heated night were her favourite. 

Black tunic unbuttoned down the front, his hands are hasty as he pulls it apart, giving a sound of approval when her naked skin is exposed to the room and he can grasp a handful of her bare breast. She used to wear a slip beneath the habit, like the others do, but… she’d sort of been foregoing that layer more often than not lately, tired of father Kaleb complaining endlessly about it being so hard to get under her clothes. Besides - it was warm today, and she’d dressed in a rush this morning. 

He tweaks her nipple and she gasps, body jolting, then she’s turning in his arms and pushing him back with a smile on her lips, sending him stumbling until his legs hit the bed and he sprawls out on his back. 

The sun is just starting to peek through the clouds, shining in through the little narrow window in her room, casting an orange glow across the bed when Thalia crawls down on top of him. 

\--

The noon sun is blazing bright and warm when a knocking on the door to her room pulls them from their little world of each other, soft, gasping breaths and sweat a few hours later. 

They stare wide eyed at each other a moment, before the knocking sounds out again, and Thalia shoves at Kaleb’s chest, frantically pushing him off her and rolling out from beneath him. 

“Uh - just a moment!” She calls out, grabbing the habit pooled on the floor and yanking it on over her head, fingers shaking so hard she can hardly do the buttons. 

“Robe!” Kaleb hisses as she flies for the door, and she hastily scoops his brown priest robe off the floor and tosses it at him on the bed before fumbling with the latch on her door, opening it a crack. 

“Sister Yasmin!” She says as she peeks out of the door.

“Sister Thalia,” her friend greets with a nod. “Is everything… alright? I heard you praying…”

Remembering several  _ oh gods _ leaving her lips as father Kaleb had thrust so deep inside her she could feel it in her very gut just a few moments ago, Thalia’s face flushes. 

“Yes!” She squeaks out. “I was um…”

Yasmin tilts her head, sympathy in her dark eyes. “I’m here if you need to talk about anything, you know. They said you were unwell, and you sounded… upset - and that’s okay - it’s alright to be sad sometimes, if you needed someone to listen or -“

“Orphans,” Thalia blurts out, and Yasmin blinks at her.

“Huh?”

“I was thinking about the orphans,” she says, hastily, and shakes her head. “Those poor children, all alone with nobody to care for them…”

“Oh.” Sister Yasmin nods. “Yes. It’s terrible for them.”

“It is!” She nods, “and I had so wanted to go today and see if I might bring them some joy…”

“It’s a great pity you’ve taken ill,” Yasmin says. “But you can’t blame yourself for that. Would you like me to come in and pray with you?”

“No!” She says quickly, before clearing her throat. “Uh, no I… still feel rather unwell. Wouldn’t want to pass anything on.”

“Oh - of course.” Yasmin steps back a bit. “Well I just came to check if you needed anything. Shall I bring some food up?”

“No, no that’s -” The sound of a click behind her makes her turn her head, and she sees father Kaleb snapping his fingers at her, nodding his head hastily where he sits out of sight of the door on her bed. She frowns at him. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yes!” She quickly turns back to Yasmin, pressing her face into the gap in the door so the other nun definitely can’t see inside the room. “Um… actually, I could try and eat something. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course not!”

“Oh but - just leave it by the door maybe? I do feel very unwell, I wouldn’t want you to catch it.”

“You’re so kind, sister Thalia,” Yasmin smiles at her, and she feels so  _ very _ guilty. “I’ll bring it up after lunch.”

“Thanks Yaz,” she smiles as she says the nickname, and her friend nods at her before moving away. 

Thalia sighs as she shuts and latches the door when she’s gone, leaning back against it to glare at Kaleb. 

“Orphans?” He’s smirking at her from his place sprawled out on her small bed.

“Shut up.”

He reaches out for her as she crosses back over to him, settling down beside him. “And poor sister Yasmin - making her carry food up here when there’s nothing wrong with me…”

“I’m starving,” Kaleb says, like that makes it alright. He pulls her against him, nuzzling into her neck. “And this way I don’t need to leave your bed to get us something to eat…”

She sighs, letting him lay her down again as his fingers dance over her clothes. He’s still naked, and he stretches out on top of her, the length of his body warm against her own. Thalia’s insides stir with heat that had never really simmered down, and she bites her lip as she lets him pull the tunic over her head. 

He has a point, she thinks a little dazedly as he settles over her, his bare skin against hers. They so rarely have  _ time _ together - moments stolen here and there, but not any expanse of time to spend together - exploring each other's bodies, yes - but just being close to Kaleb like this in the quiet of her room soothes Thalia’s soul in a way no prayer ever could. 

“Admit it,” father Kaleb says to her afterwards, when they lay panting side by side. 

Thalia turns her head. “What?”

“This was a good idea.”

She smiles, stretching a bit and turning to curl into his side. “I’m not sure  _ good _ is the right word,” she mumbles. “But nice…  _ yes _ .”

Kaleb’s fingertips trace down the length of her arm from her shoulder, feather light on her sweat damp skin. “What could be bad about this?” He muses, and she scoffs a little, assuming him joking. 

“You mean besides the fact that we’re breaking our vows and betraying god?”

“If he even exists.”   
The words are mumbled, but still loud enough for Thalia to catch, and she sits up abruptly, sheets clutched to her chest. 

“What?” Kaleb says as she stares down at him. 

She frowns. “You shouldn’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because! It’s blasphemous.” Thalia turns and slips out of the bed, grabbing her robe off the floor and tugging it on over her head as something uncomfortable whirls in her stomach. She hears father Kaleb sigh, and the sheets rustle behind her as he pulls himself to sit up in her bed. 

“You must have doubted,” He says quietly. “You read the same books I do - you know the theories… the history and logic - science -”

“Theories, yes,” she mutters. “And… and I know - I  _ know _ all that but I can’t -”

Kaleb catches her hand, makes her pause in yanking her clothes on to turn and look at him. “It’s alright to be afraid. But it’s stupid to choose to remain blind when our eyes are already open.”

She stares at him a moment, before she yanks her hand from his grasp. 

“I think... I think I’m going to go for a walk in the gardens, get some air.”

“I’ll come with you -”

“No,” she says quickly, then realising how she’d snapped the word, turns to give him a glance and forces a smile. “I just need to be alone a while. I’ll… be back after.”   
Kaleb frowns. “I thought we were spending the day together?”

“I’ll be back,” she repeats, shoving her hair messily up under her headdress and hurrying for the door. 

“Thalia -”

She shuts it behind herself, cutting father Kaleb’s words off before he can say another one. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on twitter again now, if anyone wants to come talk to me/follow @zaffrinfic :)
> 
> Hope you're enjoying the fic, comments make my day! 🙏


	4. Chapter 4

Thalia manages to get through the convent and outside into the gardens without anyone seeing her. More than half of the sisters are away visiting the orphanage today, and the rest she suspects are at the dining hall, and so the gardens are empty as she hurries through them. 

There’s a place behind the smallest chapel at the back of the walled gardens where a tree has grown up against the wall, and its branches climb the stone. It’s easy to climb up and slip over the top of the wall, and Thalia brushes off her hands as she lands from the jump on the other side, hastening into the woods before anyone should see her outside the convent grounds. 

She first discovered the spot some years back now, and she comes out here whenever life inside the convent feels… overwhelming. There’s a large tree a couple of minutes walk into the woods that grows up alongside the riverbank there, and Thalia hoists up her habit and climbs it nimbly, pulling herself up onto a thick branch and settling herself there, back against the trunk and leg dangling off the edge. She takes a deep breath, letting her head fall back and closing her eyes as she lets the gentle sounds of nature surround her. 

Sometimes, she feels like this is the only place she can breathe. 

Father Kaleb had given her that same sense of… peace - like she could relax properly, finally at first. It was perhaps why she was so drawn to him… but saying things like he had today… Thalia sighs and again and opens her eyes, absently watching as the leaves rustle in the wind. 

The thought had crossed her mind… of course it had. She had always been fascinated by the  _ way _ things worked - and  _ why _ the world and its people were the way they were - long before she’d come to the convent. Kaleb and her had had many deep discussions surrounding such things… but for him to outright demand that she doubt the existence of god… that was another matter entirely. 

Perhaps the worst part was that she knew deep down that she  _ had _ experienced those doubts before. And what if she was wrong? What if, just by entertaining such thoughts she was dooming herself to damnation? 

Thalia supposes, with a pang in her chest, there was a possibility she and Kaleb had already done that the first night they had broken their sacred vows. 

But, she reasons with herself, she had been forced to take those vows - it’s not like that had ever been her choice. And… relations such as those she and father Kaleb shared were not forbidden amongst normal folk, so why should god demand chastity from them?

Everything was so  _ confusing _ . 

She thinks back on that first night, how falling into Kaleb’s arms (and his bed) had felt like the most natural thing in the world, and she struggles to comprehend how something that felt so raw and real and sacred could be a sin against god…

—

_ Two months prior _

_ — _

“I’m sorry,” Thalia blurted out as soon as Kaleb had swung open his door. She wrung her hands in front of her, heart pounding in her chest, and Kaleb stared at her a moment before yanking her inside and shutting the door behind them. 

He sighed, turning away from her to run a hand through his dark hair. It was already mussed, like he’d been worrying it for hours. Thalia felt another pang of guilt. 

“I shouldn’t have kissed you like that,” she said hastily with red cheeks, “it was - it was stupid. Awful. It made you uncomfortable and I’m sorry. It was… a lapse in judgement,” she mumbled as she looked down. 

Kaleb turned to face her, and when he didn’t reply for a moment and she risked a glance up, she saw him watching her with surprise etched into his features. 

“Is that what you thought?”

Thalia blinked. “Huh?”

“That you made me…  _ uncomfortable?” _

She frowned in confusion. “Well… I took you by surprise; I know that. And - and afterwards you ran away from me -”

“I ran because…” Kaleb gave a huff, like he was frustrated, and threw a hand up. “You took me by surprise, yes. But I wasn’t uncomfortable. It was…” He looked at the floor, frowning, like he couldn’t find the words. “Thalia - I never meant for this to happen,” he finally mumbled. 

“...Oh,” she replied, feeling more confused. 

There was a pause. 

“You should go.”

Thalia frowned. “Do you want me to go?”

“No.” Father Kaleb answered quickly. 

“Then…”

“I should - but I don’t. Of course I don’t.” Giving another sigh, he turned from her, and moved to sit down on his bed, patting the space next to him. She hesitated. Being alone in his room with him like this was… already improper. It’s wasn’t like they hadn’t been alone together before, but something about the atmosphere that night felt…  _ loaded.  _

Thalia crossed the room, and sat down next to him. 

“Do you want to know why I really ran away from you after that kiss?” He murmured. His dark eyes were intense, and she swallowed as she looked into them. She nodded. 

“It was because I didn’t know if I would be able to control myself if I hadn’t.”

Thalia blinked. “I… you mean…?”

Slowly, father Kaleb reached out and took her hand. When Thalia didn’t pull away, he moved it, very deliberately, eyes still holding hers, and placed it in his lap, where she could feel, quite clearly…

“ _ Oh _ ,” she uttered, her own eyes widening as she felt him, hard and hot and  _ there _ , beneath his robes. And that was… well.  _ Well. _

She should have pulled away. That was the moment when Thalia knew they had gone too far - knew she should have pulled her hand away, got up off his bed and apologised, then left his room and never looked back.    
But Thalia was not that strong. Her heart pounded and her body  _ ached _ \- somewhere deep inside, the apex of her thighs tingling, a wetness building that felt distinctly pleasant, and curiosity burned bright in her mind. Thalia had always been hungry for knowledge, and the desire to know  _ this  _ was too tempting to ignore. The desire to know  _ him _ . 

So instead of removing her hand, she squeezed, and Kaleb gasped, his mouth falling open, an expression crossing his face that made Thalia press her thighs together. She found herself shifting restlessly, biting down on her lip as her squeezing turned to stroking, her hand guided by his own, their breathing becoming heavier in the peaceful quiet of his small room. 

They had undressed each other fully that first night, and as Thalia stood to drop the last slip of clothing from her body, finally leaving her bare to Kaleb’s eyes, something in her fell away with it, and a great relief, deep in her bones came over her body as he reached out for her and took her into his arms. 

It had hurt a bit, but mostly it had just felt like so  _ much _ . She’d felt a vague sense of anger when he’d finally been moving inside of her - anger that she had been kept from experiencing these sensations - that this whole part of life had been forbidden to her. If god had made them capable of feeling such pleasures, then wouldn’t he want them to be able to experience them?

—

Up in her tree, Thalia sighs, swinging her leg as she picks apart a piece of bark she’d broken off the trunk in her hands. 

She shifts a bit, irritated at the heat that had flared between her thighs at the memory, and tries to think of something other than how Kaleb’s heavy form had felt moving on top of her that night, his bare skin sliding against her own, their hearts beating in time, his mouth on her neck and his pleasure-filled gasps and moans in her ear that had matched her own…

“Lord,” she mutters, shifting again, cross with herself when she feels that her body’s had an additional response to heat, and she bites down on her bottom lip.

It was exciting at first - the way Kaleb or thoughts of him and what he could do to her made her body respond physically, but after a short while it became frequent enough that the dampness in her underwear was annoying. She hadn’t put any on this time, she’d rushed from his arms so quick, and she squeezes her thighs together, uncomfortable at the wetness there and hoping she didn’t ruin her habit.

He just makes her feel  _ so… _

_ So… _

Just  _ so.  _ So much. Thalia knows she should put a stop to this thing between them before it becomes more serious, but she also knows that she is as powerless to resist him now as she is to draw breath into her very lungs.

She realises with a bit of a start that she had started tracing patterns on her thigh with the fingertips of her right hand while she was lost in thought, and lets it trail upwards, dancing over where the heat has accumulated and higher, cupping her breast through her tunic.

Kaleb loved her breasts - he had told her on many occasions. And shown her. With his hands and his mouth and his dark eyes locked onto them as she rode him, watching them bounce roughly in the candlelight like it was the most enrapturing sight in all the world. 

She’s squeezing without thinking about it, imaging his hand doing the same, and then barely thinking straight, Thalia finds herself bundling her skirts up, a hand that shakes a bit with desperation snaking beneath them so she can press her fingers to where she’s hot and aching. She grinds down against the pressure - like an itch that’s begging to be scratched as she rubs clumsily at herself, yearning for larger hands and a low voice in her ear. 

She shouldn’t be doing this. It was like… these needs and desires were taking over, ever since she had first opened herself to them, they had grabbed ahold of her and pulled her under… and the worst part was that though Thalia knew it was a sin, she had no desire to attempt to pull herself back out. 

Her mouth opens and her head tips back against the tree. Her eyes are closed as she thinks of the way Kaleb touches her, imagines him here with her, climbing up into this tree, stripping her bare out here in the woods and taking her while they were both suspended here above the world. She’s moaning softly, and she squeezes her breast with her free hand as the fingers of her other move quicker, hips rocking, sweat building on the back of her neck, heat coiling in her belly -

A twig snaps, and Thalia’s stomach drops as she flails, almost toppling from the tree as her eyes snap open.

“Careful there,” Kaleb grins from below. “I don’t want to have to carry you back because you’ve fallen and broken your ankle.”

“Kaleb!” She fumes, face red from more than just the shock. “How did you - when - how long were you watching me!?”

He leers up at her. “Long enough.” 

“You could have told me you were there,” she mutters irritably as she climbs down, heart still pounding.

“And ruin the show?” She can hear the smirk in Kaleb’s voice, and she jumps the last few feet to the ground, landing before him and turning round to sock him in the arm. 

“Ow,” he laughs, rubbing at it. “You know violence is a sin.”

“So is spying on people!”

“So is touching yourself.”

He’s still smirking, dark eyes dancing with mischief, and Thalia looks away, face flushed. 

“I just - I wasn’t - it’s just -“

“I wasn’t complaining,” he chuckles, reaching out to touch her face. She bats him off, folding her arms.

“How did you even find me out here?”

He shrugs. “I’ve known you come here sometimes for a while. Took a wild guess when I couldn’t find you in the convent.”

“You have?”

Kaleb nods. “I come out here to the river sometimes myself. I saw you up there one day.”

“You should have said,” she mumbles, looking away. She feels irrationally embarrassed that her hiding place was not so secret as she thought. 

He shrugs. “Kind of seemed like you wanted to be alone. Guess now I know why,” he adds with a cheeky smirk.

“That’s not -! I  _ don’t.  _ I don’t do that - I haven’t before. Here I mean,” she’s rambling, and her cheeks are hot and how she  _ hates him _ for being able to fluster her so. Annoyed with herself, she whirls from him to walk away.

“Hey,” he laughs, grabbing her arm before she can go.

“Let go,” she complains, but doesn’t put up much of a fight when he pulls her to him, walking them forward so her back hits the tree she was just up in. 

“I was just teasing you, love,” he tells her, and his eyes are honest as he leans in and presses a kiss to her lips. She lets him, mouth still against his for a moment before she finds herself kissing him back. Kaleb cups a hand to her face. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know,” he tells her lowly.

“Isn’t it?”

He shakes his head. “Well. No more than the other things we do…” Thalia sighs as he leans in to kiss her neck now instead, letting his mouth move down over her skin, dropping slow kisses from beneath her ear along her jawline and down the side of her neck. 

She’s still… irritated with him. Both for not telling her he was there watching her just now, and for what he had said before in his room, although… she was more irritated at her own confusion than at him for making her so. But despite all that (or indeed, perhaps because of it) as he mourns at her neck all Thalia wants to do is to melt into him and forget the world.

His mouth is hot against her skin and his body warm where it presses hers to the tree, and Thalia feels her muscles relaxing, feels that burning desire that had built up just before flaring to life inside her again. 

“Did you finish?” He murmurs hotly against her mouth, and she bites her lip and shakes her head.

Kaleb’s lips ghost over her throat . “Do you want to?”

Thalia’s body flushes hot with want, and she nods hastily, Kaleb’s hands already going to the skirts of her habit, bundling them up quickly. She reaches down to help, holding them up around her hips, and Kaleb lifts his head from her neck to give her a loaded glance, dark eyes clouded with lust and promise.

Then he sinks to his knees.

Thalia gives an ‘ _ oh’  _ at the first swipe of his tongue, hot and wet where she is equally so, and her legs tremble as he begins to lap at her.

His strong hands pin her hips to the tree, holding her skirts up in place at the same time, and Thalia’s go to his shoulders, fisting tight in his brown priest's robe.

“Lift your leg,” he murmurs against her after a moment, mouth leaving her just briefly, dark gaze flickering up to hers. His lips and short beard are shining with something that makes her blush, and Thalia does as he asks and lifts her right leg, letting Kaleb prop it on his shoulder before he leans back in. 

She’s more open to him this way, and she gasps when he opens his whole mouth over her. 

“God,” she moans, fingers flexing in the shoulder of his robe, her other hand going to grip desperately in his hair. “Holy god… oh sweet lord,  _ Kaleb…”  _

She feels him smirk against her, and her head hits the tree behind her as he sucks on something that makes white hot pleasure curdle in her core. Her head hurts, but she’s too far gone to care, and just a few short minutes later, that pleasure that had coiled up tight like a spring bursts, and Thalia doubles over as she climaxes. 

Her body shudders and stars dance behind her vision, and she doesn’t know if it’s Kaleb’s or the lord's name that leaves her lips in a hoarse cry of delight. 

—


End file.
